Chapter 97

Episode 97. The Law of Garbage Preservation (5)

Brooks, the vice-captain of the Holy Knight Order, was feeling a sense of awe towards himself.

He had been training as a knight since he was seven years old, and even now, past the age of fifty, he was still at it.

However, the high-intensity training—no, the training so extreme that calling it high-intensity would be an understatement—that he received from Keter was something he had never experienced even during his active years.

But he endured it. Among the young and spirited, he steadfastly showed the resilience of a veteran.

But now, he really couldn’t go on. He had learned the mysterious technique of Heavenly Power from Keter, but even that had reached its limit.

“Trainee number 4, wake up.”

At Keter’s words, Brooks let out a groan.

“Ughhh…”

Groaning and writhing, Brooks couldn’t get up. Keter kicked him lightly with his foot and said,

“Are you trying to play tricks in front of me?”

“No, I really don’t have the strength to get up anymore.”

“Trainee number 3 is still running. He hasn’t taken a break like you.”

“Young Master Taragon is young… I’ve lived half a century. It’s not strange for me to retire at this age.”

“Your tone is irritating. What are you trying to say?”

“Just following you this far… I think I’ve done well enough. It’s not that I’m giving up. But, I want to rest now.”

“Can you train hard starting tomorrow?”

“Yes. Also, I think it would be good to teach this training method to everyone. The technique of Heavenly Power is amazing. The Lord would be pleased.”

Brooks spoke of Heavenly Power as if it were his own.

In his imagination, he was already a hero. A hero who had informed and taught Sephira about the existence of Heavenly Power.

He was under the illusion that he had ‘extracted’ the technique from Keter.

“You’ve been talking for a long time. If you had spent that time running around the training ground, you could have done two laps.”

“No, I only have the energy to talk, not even to stand.”

“Trainee number 4. Do you know the Law of Garbage Preservation?”

“Huh? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s the theory that when five people gather, one of them is garbage. Like you.”

“……?”

“Trainee number 5, who dropped out before even starting, might be a fool, but he’s not garbage. But you are garbage. Your attitude changed as soon as you learned Heavenly Power. Are you trying to deceive me with obvious lies and make a fool of me?”

“N-no, that’s not it.”

“If I say it’s true, then it’s true.”

Thud!

Keter, crouching down, poked Brooks’ temple with his index finger.

“I’ll take back Heavenly Power. It’s not a technique for garbage like you.”

“Gahhh?!”

Brooks writhed in pain as if a part of his brain had been ripped out. Very energetically, proving that his claim of not having the strength to get up was a lie.

Keter destroyed a part of Brooks’ brain to prevent him from using Heavenly Power. Of course, without harming his body. He could have harmed it, but he chose not to.

Pop.

Keter, having retracted his finger, wiped the blood on Brooks’ collar and called the servants.

“What are you doing? The vice-captain of the Holy Knight Order has collapsed. Take him to the treatment room immediately.”

“Ugh, Instructor. I was wrong. Please give me one more chance…”

“I gave you a chance. You kicked it away, and now what are you saying? Vice-captain Brooks.”

“Ugh, ugh…”

“Rest well, sleep well, and prepare diligently for the Southern Sword Tournament. If you hold us back, be prepared.”

“……”

Unable to accept reality, Brooks finally fainted.

“Take him away quickly.”

At Keter’s urging, the servants quickly took Brooks away.

Two had dropped out from the first day.

In a way, it was an expected result. Darkin and Brooks had no connection with Keter. They had no trust in Keter and no understanding of him.

Three remained.

Among them, Luke, who had passed Keter’s trial the fastest, arrived at Keter’s mansion.

Luke, slumped like a doll in a chair, just wanted to sleep. His eyes were already closed.

“Luke, wake up.”

“Father? Am I… dead?”

“You seem sleepy. But Young Master Keter said you must eat.”

“Ah… food? I don’t have an appetite…”

“If you don’t eat, he said you have to run five laps around the training ground.”

“I’ll eat well.”

Luke, with no strength to open his eyes, put whatever he could grab into his mouth and was surprised.

“It’s… delicious!”

For someone who had exhausted their stamina to the limit, even water would taste like honey. Especially for Luke, who had used Heavenly Power to draw on non-existent stamina, it was so delicious that tears welled up in his eyes.

Jacques, curious about how delicious it was, tried a piece of bread and tilted his head.

“It’s ordinary.”

Regardless, Luke continued his ravenous meal.

Not long after, Anis joined the dining room.

“Young Master, you’ve worked hard. You must be tired, but let’s eat first…”

Thud.

Jacques didn’t even need to say anything. Anis grabbed a chunk of meat with his bare hands and shoved it into his mouth.

At the last moment, having grabbed his younger brother Taragon by the nape to secure victory, Anis’ rationality was already half gone.

Almost like a beast. If touched wrong, he might bite.

“Ah, this. We’ll run out of food. Chef!”

Jacques had already heard about the training situation from Keter. Especially since he had been instructed to provide unlimited food to the trainees.

Only after the two had eaten a combined total of 13 servings did the ravenous meal end.

Gulp, gulp.

Full and warm, the sleep they had been holding back overcame them.

But Keter’s instructions were not yet over.

“We will escort you to the bathhouse.”

The two, already half unconscious, were moved to the bathhouse.

There were five bathtubs in the bathhouse. But the color of the water in the tubs was strange.

Pink.

From the steaming pink water came a pungent and sweet smell. The servants, groaning, put the two into the tubs.

“We will take you out in 30 minutes.”

Jacques, holding a pocket watch, waited in front of the bathhouse. Keter’s second instruction was not to exceed 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, a miracle was happening in the bathhouse.

The wounds on Luke and Anis were healing in real-time.

Scraped knees, crushed soles, even burn marks were healing cleanly, and new flesh was growing.

It wasn’t just external wounds that were healing. Muscles torn from overuse and bruises from Keter’s blows were also disappearing cleanly.

It was the effect of the Elixir.

Intermediate Elixir had been dissolved in the tub water.

1,600 gold per bottle. The miraculous recovery potion that could instantly heal even the severely injured was being used for minor wounds and body fatigue.

The pink tub gradually turned black. This was a phenomenon caused by the recovery process inside the body, expelling dead blood.

Keter’s instruction to stick to 30 minutes was because it took exactly 30 minutes for the dead blood to be expelled.

If left in longer, the dead blood could be reabsorbed into the body, so they had to get out immediately.

“30 minutes it is.”

Jacques was meticulous. He went into the bathhouse to take them out on time and was startled.

“My, I’ve never smelled something so foul. The bathwater has turned into sewage.”

Even if someone had defecated, it wouldn’t smell this bad.

Jacques, just in case, carefully checked before letting the servants in. Then he sighed in relief.

Luke and Anis, taken out of the tub, were washed, dressed, and laid on beds by the servants.

Taragon, who had run ten laps around the training ground, went through the same procedure.

Thus, the hellish day ended.

For the trainees, that is.

For Keter, it was just the beginning.

The Southern Sword Tournament. Keter’s goal was, of course, first place. He didn’t even consider anything else.

If he used Amaranth and Mana Arrow, he could win first place without breaking a sweat. But he had no intention of using Amaranth and Mana Arrow in this tournament.

‘They’ll spread rumors that I won thanks to Mana Arrow. Too obvious.’

When facing an opponent, Keter always wanted a clear victory.

He would take first place without using Amaranth’s Mana Arrow. He would show a clear difference in level so that others couldn’t even make a sound.

Of course, he was confident he could take first place even as things stood. If the tournament proceeded normally, that is.

‘But it won’t be normal. They’re determined to humiliate Sephira.’

In the worst-case scenario, all the knights might focus their attacks on Sephira.

Keter didn’t care even if such a situation arose. He just needed to become strong enough not to care.

Standing at attention, he circulated the Aura within his body. Gradually increasing the speed of the Aura flowing through his blood vessels.

Once it reached a certain speed, his body began to suffer. Of course. Aura is a force of destruction. A double-edged sword.

What Keter was doing now was no different from self-harm. No, it was suicide.

If destroying your body from the inside isn’t suicide, then what is?

But for Keter, it wasn’t suicide. Keter maintained the speed only up to the limit his body could withstand.

Just a little more output, and the Aura would tear his body apart. He would bleed from his entire body and die.

Why do such a thing?

Because it’s training.

Aura is different from how muscles grow. It’s not destruction and regeneration, but adaptation.

The effects gained from this are limitless. Resistance to others’ Aura increases, and the efficiency of body enhancement using Aura improves.

But no one uses this training method.

First, it’s too dangerous. Even a slight mistake could be fatal, and the time efficiency is poor.

In the time it takes to do self-harm training, practicing swordsmanship or even exercising would be more helpful.

Keter agrees.

Up to a certain point.

‘Practice and exercise have no upper limit.’

If you start building muscle from scratch, you’ll see rapid growth.

But once you reach a certain level, muscle growth stops. It’s not that it stops, but rather that it reaches its limit.

Knights call this the singularity of muscles.

Beyond the singularity, the efficiency of exercise drops drastically. But since it’s not completely ineffective, they don’t stop exercising.

Swordsmanship is the same. At first, you improve quickly, but at some point, you hit a wall. From then on, swinging the sword thousands or tens of thousands of times makes little difference from swinging it hundreds of times.

Of course, that small difference can determine victory or defeat, but it’s extremely rare.

So, self-harm training is not meaningless. Unlike muscles or swordsmanship, there’s no limit to growth.

Do other swordsmanship families not know this logic?

They do.

‘In 30 years, that is.’

Currently, the mainstream training method is a combination of exercise and swordsmanship. At this time, the superiority of ‘self-harm training’ is not yet known.

Some people know about the superiority of self-harm training, but they don’t spread or propagate it.

For Keter, it was a choice he could make because he had experienced the future.

‘Training during the day, strengthening at night. This should have an effect comparable to actual combat.’

If Jacques the butler had heard, he would have questioned and said,

“Then, when do you sleep?”

Keter would have replied nonchalantly,

“I don’t need to sleep.”

Thus began Keter’s sleepless training, which no one could understand.